


Bite Me

by Boycott_Love



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Bullying, Domestic Abuse (mentioned), Foster Care, High School, M/M, rating and tags may change, selective mutism if thats even a thing, the title will make much more sense later on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boycott_Love/pseuds/Boycott_Love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete's a loner, always has been and always will be. Mostly because he greatly distrusts humans, they've never done him any good so he steers clear of everyone and avoids all social situations. That is until he meets Patrick, who has issues of his own.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>"The world is ugly, but you're beautiful to me."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://i766.photobucket.com/albums/xx305/pikasafire/Celebrities/PeteWhenIWas17004.jpg) is what Pete is going to look like during the story until i say otherwise, okay and patrick is gonna look the way he did when he was 17 but i couldn't find a good picture so use your imagination or something. Not enough people know that pete had dreads.

Pete always had this sick feeling sloshing around in his stomach every time someone mentioned the words 'public school' anywhere near him. He's been in online school and homeschooled up until the tenth grade, he was okay with it for the most part. It gave him an excuse to hide and stay out of sight, and he had a lot of things to hide himself from. A lot of reasons to want to be invisible. He didn't want anyone to see his scars and bruises, he didn't want to be judged or become a pity case, or be teased and picked on. So attending school from home made things a little easier on him.

But it also made things worse. His family wasn't the most supportive when it came to who Pete really was. They hated him the second he came out to them, being the homophobic religious people that they are. His siblings were a little more supportive and wanted the best for him. They comforted him on the nights he cried himself to sleep, patched him up whenever their dad would hit him, comforted him when their mother was cold to him and treated him like less of a person. His brother and sister were the only people he trusted anymore.

Then one day, someone had found out of his situation. He didn't know who but he didn't talk or leave home very much, so he believed it to be someone really close to him. Maybe his brother or sister. But it didn't matter because he was being taken away from the home he grew up in with his family, Child Protective Services had come to take him into foster care. Part of him was really happy to be leaving because he could finally get away from the abuse of his parents. The other part was distraught because he would be leaving behind the only two people who understood who he was and accepted him for it.

He hasn't seen his family since.

And now he's here in a foster home with three other kids that hate his guts and foster parents who try to treat him like a person but fail miserably. This is where he's being forced to live, and now he's being forced to go to public school. He knows this will be hard for him since he hasn't spoken to anyone since he had been taken away, doesn't plan on speaking to anyone because people have always treated him like shit. He doesn't need people, he can do just fine on his own.

"Now Peter," His foster mother, Alice, says to him as he's about to get out of the car. "be good, okay. I know this is your first time in a public school but everything will be fine, alright?"

Pete doesn't believe her but he nods anyway, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder.

"Have a good day." She says then Pete shuts the passenger door and watches as she drives off with the other three kids in the back seat. They're all younger than him but they're all still a bunch of assholes.

Pete turns around and looks up at the school, watching all the students walk through the gates and into the building. They're all smiling and laughing with their friends and Pete is just standing there, alone, hating every second that passes by and he hasn't even stepped through the doors yet. This isn't a place for a troubled seventeen year old boy.

Eventually, Pete does move from the sidewalk and follows behind the other students. He takes out his schedule as he enters the building and looks for his first class; English rm. 206. He sighs heavily and heads for the stairs, going up and searching for the room. Once he finds it, he walks in and immediately wants to run out.

There's so many people in this one room, like ants piling over a dead bee, they're everywhere. His heart begins to race, faster and faster as he scans the room of unfamiliar faces. He needs to get out of here, but where is he going to go? He can't just go home, his parents will ask questions and report him to his social worker. Maybe he can just hide out somewhere on school grounds so he won't get into too much trouble.

Pete steps out of the doorway and quickly walks down the hall, he doesn't know where he's going but he has to get away from there. He shoves his way through the shrinking crowd of people and comes across the boy's bathroom. Perfect, he can hide in there. He steps in just as the last boy is leaving and locks himself in one of the stalls, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling his knees up to his chest. He tries to steady his breathing, closing his eyes and thinking of anything that could give him solace. He feels like he's drowning in a sea of his own worries and slowly dying as he begins to suffocate in such a big place. He just wants to be alone, this world is too big for him.

"Somebody get me out of here," He whispers to himself, hugging his knees tighter. "I can't take this."

Then he hears footsteps, they're slow and hesitant like the person is afraid to enter. Pete tries to stop breathing so they won't hear him and then maybe they'll go away. But Pete wasn't going to be so lucky.

He sees a pair of old beat up Chucks, similar to his own, stop in front of the stall he's in. Then silence. All he can hear is his own heartbeat pounding against his rib cage like a battering ram. Pete flinches when he hears them speak.

"Hello?"

Pete doesn't answer, still hoping the boy will go away and leave him alone. But he doesn't, he just keeps talking.

"It's okay, I know you're there. Hiding out, huh? Yeah, me too. I can't say that we're going through the same things but I know how you feel." Then his feet walk off only to reappear in the stall next to him.

The boy's words make Pete curious. What's going on with this kid, how does he know Pete's pain? Maybe he should meet him, or at least see what the kid looks like. He isn't going to talk to someone he met only two minutes ago, but maybe he should just see who he's dealing with.

Pete stands up on the toilet lid and braces his hands on the top of the divider, peeking into the stall beside him. He sees the boy who was just talking to him, sitting in the same position that Pete was only moments ago. He had redish-blond hair, was wearing a dark blue t-shirt and brown pants along with the beat up Chucks he'd seen earlier.

Pete taps on the wall to get the boy's attention. He looks up at the other boy with the short, bleached dreadlocks and hoop earrings.

"Oh, hey." The boy greets, standing up on the toilet lid to see Pete properly. He has to stand on his toes a little since he's a tiny bit shorter than Pete is. "How long do you plan on hiding out?"

Pete shrugs.

"Me neither. I'd stay all day if I could."

Pete wants to ask why the other boy is hiding in the bathroom, but he's not comfortable enough to speak to him just yet. No matter how much he wants to. But the boy must be good at reading expressions because he can see the question in Pete's eyes.

"I, um, I get bullied a lot." The boy says in a quiet voice. "What about you?"

Damn, Pete can't give him a gesture as an answer this time. He holds up his index finger, telling the boy to give him a minute, and reaches into the pocket of his dark purple cargo shorts. He pulls out his cell phone and opens up an empty message, typing out a few words for the boy to read. He hands him the phone.

' _Abused_ '.

The boy looks up from the screen and at Pete with an expression of genuine sadness on his face, even looks a bit teary eyed. "Dude, I'm...I'm so sorry. Explains why you don't talk much. Sometimes I wish I could just run away and start over somewhere secluded and isolated, y'know, like an island or something. I don't get along with people very well."

Pete takes his phone back and types out something new, holding up for the other boy to see.

' _Me neither, but you seem okay'_.

The boy smiles a little at that. "I'm Patrick."

' _Pete_ '. He types out.


	2. Take My Hand

 

Pete and Patrick have officially been hiding out in the bathroom for three class periods. In that time they talked, well more like Patrick talked and Pete communicated through his phone. They didn’t go into anymore details about their personal lives so they talked more about their interests; music, hobbies, all that stuff people normally talked about. The best part about it was that Patrick was patient with him and understood that Pete was a selective mute, he was okay with it and even made the boy smile a few times. It was nice to feel okay.

The next bell had sounded off, signalling the beginning of lunch and the two boys couldn’t hide in the toilets forever. Eventually they knew they would have to leave, but Pete was kind of enjoying his time with the shorter boy.

“We should probably get out of here,” Patrick says. “If we ditch anymore classes they’ll send someone to search for us.”

Pete nods in understanding then steps down from the toilet, grabbing his bookbag off the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. Pete unlocks the stall door and flings it open, coming face to face with Patrick who had already gathered his things.

“Ready?”

Pete ducks his head down in uncertainty. He definitely was not ready to face the world and wanted to hide in a hole somewhere. He’s uneasy and scared. What will everyone say? What if something terribly bad happens?

“Hey,” Patrick brings Pete back to reality. “it’s okay, you’re not alone. I’m just as scared as you are.” He smiles nervously and holds out his hand, palm up.

Pete stares down at Patrick’s hand a moment, unsure. Then Patrick says, “We don’t have to stay here. We can go wherever you want.”

Pete looks back up at Patrick and a small smile pulls at his lips. He likes the sound of that, as long as they can go anywhere but here. Pete takes Patrick’s hand and holds on tight, feeling Patrick squeeze his hand back as they exit the bathroom. Once they’re in the hall the two break out into a jog, nearly tripping down the stairs, and started to run as they got closer to the double doors. Patrick looked back at Pete with a smile on his face and Pete couldn’t help but smile back. The pale boy turned back around just as they reached the exit, pushing it open and continuing to run with Pete’s hand gripped tightly in his own.

 

***

 

“So where do you want to go?” Patrick asks as they walk on the pavement, already ten minutes away from school grounds.

Pete shrugs while he absently plays in his hair, twisting one of his dreads around between his fingers.

“We can go to the park, or the lake, the arcade-”

Pete places his free hand on Patrick’s shoulder to stop his list of locations, causing Patrick to look over to him. “Arcade?”

Pete nods.

“Cool, I know a shortcut.” Then Patrick’s grabbing Pete’s hand again and leading him in an entirely different direction.

In all, they walk through a few trails, about two alley ways, and past an abandoned house before they reach the arcade. It’s not huge and it’s nearly empty, mainly because it was a school day, which Pete was okay with. As they go inside and Patrick greets one of the employees who Pete couldn’t remember the name of.

Pete glances around the place, eyeing the games until he sees one that grabs his attention. He runs over to the machine with the picture of a zombie on the side and the two plastic pistols attached to the front. He glances over and sees that Patrick is checking out Pac-Man, so he grabs the boy and drags him over the the zombie game.

“Woah, I didn’t even see this one.” Patrick comments with awe. “Must be new.” Then he reaches into his pocket and extracts fifty cents, popping the quarters into the slots to get the game started. “I’ll get the left, you take the right.”

Pete nods and picks up the gun he was assigned, already aiming it at the screen before the game has even started. The game counts down...3...2...1… then the game starts, going down the hallway of an abandoned hospital and blood is everywhere. There’s some type of commentary going on but Pete isn’t listening because he just wants to start shooting some fucking zombies already.

Patrick gets startled when the first one pops up, jumping at the screen and swiping digitized blood across it. Pete laughs and shoots it as Patrick gets the next one. They continue on playing the game, shooting at the endless waves of zombies, Patrick shouting warnings at Pete and occasionally stepping around one another just to get a good shot. Pete nearly lost all of his health before they reached the end of the game, but luckily they made it out and were rescued.

Pete quickly pulls his phone out and types up a message.

‘ _Another round?_ ’

Patrick smiles at the message. “Yeah man! I take the right this time.”

 

***

 

After Patrick has spent about two dollars in quarters, the boys decide to leave the arcade. It was nearly two o’clock when they left and Pete was getting hungry since they had skipped lunch and all. But he didn’t want Patrick to spend all of his money since he did pay for them both to play at the arcade. Then it was almost like Patrick had read his mind.

“Dude, I’m starving.” He groans, looking over at Pete who nods in agreement. “We can go to my house. There aren’t any places to eat within walking distance, I only live about two blocks from here.”

Pete nods again, hesitantly this time because he’s not ready to meet anyone else today.

“Don’t worry, my mom’s at work until seven and my brother’s in college. Nobody’s home.”

Pete smiles at Patrick’s reassuring words and follows behind the shorter boy as they walk to his house.


	3. Pain

The boys finally arrive at Patrick’s house who scopes it out just in case his mother decided to come home early or his brother dropped in for a surprise visit. The coast was clear so Patrick had motioned for Pete to enter his home, taking off his bookbag and dropping it down beside the couch. Patrick does the same then shuts the front door.

“So, whad'ya wanna eat?” Patrick asks, walking off toward the kitchen. “Cereal, Ice cream, I think there’s some leftover pasta in here somewhere, there might be some pizza rolls left.” He opens the freezer to check. “Nope, I lied, the pizza rolls have vanished. But there’s poptarts, fruit snacks, uhm…” Patrick opens one of the cupboards and picks up a single, red can. “Spaghettio’s?”

Pete smiles at Patrick’s confused face as he examines the can then types something up for Patrick to see.

 _‘Who still eats Spaghettio’s?_ ’

“I used to eat it when I was, like, five. I think.” Then he flips the can over and reads the numbers printed on the bottom. “This thing is so fucking old.” He shows the can to Pete who laughs as he reads the numbers; the can is nearly six years past the expiry date.

‘ _Toss it, no one’s gonna eat that._ ’

“Good idea, wouldn’t want either of us to die from old Spaghettio’s.” Patrick says as he tosses the can in the trashcan, making a heavy thud as it hit the bottom.

Pete takes it upon himself to help look for other things to eat, opening a few other cupboards until he finds something good they can both snack on. He grabs a family sized bag of Cheetos and hands it to Patrick.

“Y’know, my mom bought this for me yesterday and I totally forgot about it.” He nods his head in the direction of the living room as he walks out with Pete trailing not far behind. “Nearly wasted three bucks worth of Cheetos.”

They sit on Patrick’s couch who flicks on the TV as Pete opens the bag, causing the corner to rip and nearly spilling it. But Patrick doesn’t seem too concerned about it. Patrick flicks and flicks and flicks channels for a good two minutes before he gives up and just turns the TV off entirely. Why wasn’t there anything good on TV right now?

Pete doesn’t care about that though because he was too busy digging his hands into the chip bag and crunching loudly on the cheese-powdered things, licking the excess flavoring off the tips of his fingers. He’s just about to put his hand back in the bag before Patrick stops him, lightly gripping his wrist.

“Woah, woah, do not put that hand back in there after you just slobbered all over them.”

‘ _My mouth’s clean_ ’

“How do I know that?”

‘ _Because I just told you_ ’

Patrick gives the other boy an unamused look which Pete just laughs at. “Either wash your hands or eat with the other one.”

Pete rolls his eyes but keeps a smile on his face, deciding to do the latter and switch hands.

 

***

 

The boys have been sitting on Patrick’s couch for a couple hours now, not doing much of anything other than eating junk and tossing the occasional Cheeto at each other. Which Pete tried to catch with his mouth but wasn’t very successful, leading to the floor and couch cushions to be covered in bits of powdered cheese product. Then they sat in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of a ruffling bag and crunching filling the room. After a few more moments of that, Patrick decides to break the comfortable silence.

“Hey, Pete,” He says. “Can I tell you something?”

Pete looks over at the other boy and nods, sitting up straight and shifting so he could face Patrick. The shorter boy takes the Cheeto bag, rolls it up, and places it on the coffee table, also shifting so he could look at Pete directly.

“Remember I told you I get bullied?”

Pete nods.

“Well, y’know, people get bullied because they’re different, usually. And also because I guess I’m an easy target somehow. I like being who I am, but the world makes it seem like being different is the worst thing that could ever happen. Being different hurts. ”

Pete knows exactly how Patrick feels. ‘ _I’m different, too._ ’

“Different how?” Patrick wonders. It’s fine if Pete doesn’t want to tell him but he just wants to know if Pete’s different in the same way he is.

Pete hesitates on his phone’s keyboard, his fingers hovering over the letters a moment before he finally types out his answer. He needs someone else to know about him but doesn’t want to be hated for it like before. He wants Patrick to be as understanding as his brother and sister were. He takes a deep breath.

‘ _I’m gay_.’

Patrick has this look of relief on his face, visibly relaxing into the couch. He smiles a bit. “Me, too.”

Pete smiles back before it fades away. He pulls down the collar of his black t-shirt down enough to reveal the right side of his collarbone. There are two vertical scars going right across the bone, along with a couple of smaller marks. This is what being different got him and Patrick seems to understand that as Pete types something else out on his phone.

‘ _My dad pushed me into a window._ ’

The words themselves make Patrick want to cry. How could someone do a thing like that to Pete while he’s in such a fragile state? He needed support and understanding but his parents didn’t provide that. How could they just up and hate their own child? Pete’s still their son, they should love him no matter what. But he obviously wasn’t so lucky.

Patrick reaches out and pulls Pete into a hug, holding him tightly as the dark haired boy sniffles and allows a tear to slip. Pete rests his head on Patrick’s shoulder, a small puddle forming on his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t worry, Pete,” Patrick says softly, tightening his hold. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Pete turns his head and buries his face in the curve of Patrick’s neck, his body shaking slightly as he lets out even more tears but he refuses to sob. He’s not going to break down that far, he won’t allow it.

The two stay that way until Pete has to leave and go home.

 

***

 

The next day, Pete and Patrick promise each other to try and stay in school the whole day. It goes alright because they have the same first and third period, but during the other classes they're apart it’s a little more difficult to keep their promise. Patrick practically cowers in fear in the back of the classroom away from the other students and feeling as though someone is plotting his downfall. He barely survives his last class before lunch comes, he rushes out of the room the second the bell sounds off.

Pete slouched down in his seat, ignoring the classroom as he avoided any and all conversation possible. Even with the teacher. He refused to answer questions and the teacher eventually got the hint that he wasn’t going to speak. He felt like the entirety of the class was watching and judging him, giving him looks of disgust and hatred. But he was only imagining half of that, the judging was probably happening without him knowing for sure. He bolts out once the lunch bell rings forgetting to grab his bag in the process, desperately needing to find Patrick. Patrick’s his safety zone, he makes everything okay again.

Pete all but runs to the lunchroom, stopping in the archway to scan the huge crowd of people for his friend. He can’t see much from where he’s standing so he hesitantly ventures further into the room, gripping the hem of his shirt like a lifeline.

 _Patrick, where are you_ , Pete worries to himself, continuing to look for the pale boy. Did he break his promise and leave Pete behind? No, he wouldn’t do that, Patrick needed him just as much as Pete needed Patrick, this is a two-way street. But Pete hits a dead end when he finally comes across the boy, sitting in the far corner of the lunchroom with his knees up and his head down.

Pete kneels down beside him and gently touches his shoulder, which makes the other boy’s head shoot up. He flinches and backs himself further into the corner. Patrick hasn’t been having a good day. His left eye was beginning to bruise and his nose had traces of dried blood around it, his lower lip split and bleeding. _What the hell happened?_

Patrick sniffles a bit and relaxes when he realizes it’s Pete, scooting towards the taller boy. Pete pats himself down for his phone and quickly types.

‘ _Where’s your bookbag?_ ’

“Dumpster.”

Pete’s expression turns to one of anger, gritting his teeth behind his lips. Whoever did this to Patrick was going to regret ever touching him. He gets to his feet and holds out his hand for his friend to take, hauling Patrick to his feet when their hands connect. Pete doesn’t let go once he’s standing but when they begin to walk, he notices that Patrick is limping. _Dammit, who the fuck did this to him?_ Pete gestures to his back and bends down a bit so Patrick could climb on, he mounts his back with a little help and hangs his arms over Pete’s shoulders. Pete holds onto the underside of Patrick’s thighs and carries him out of the lunchroom, mentally cursing whoever hurt his friend.

Instead of taking Patrick to the bathroom, Pete decides to just take him home. Patrick won’t be able to focus if he’s constantly worrying if he’s going to get beat up again. When they pass the boy’s bathroom, Patrick asks, “Where are we going?” as he leans over a little to look at Pete’s face but can only see the side of it.

Pete looks at him but, of course, doesn’t say anything. He can’t get to his phone at the moment so he faces forward and hopes Patrick will figure it out. Patrick’s quiet after that, resting his head on Pete’s shoulder as they head toward the exit. Pete uses his foot to hit the door’s handle, kicking it open and stepping outside.

He carries his friend all the way home.

Once inside, Pete takes Patrick straight to the bathroom and sets him down on the counter by the sink. Patrick hisses a bit in pain then holds his side, Pete gives him an apologetic look. He grabs a rag from the shelf above the toilet and wets it with warm water before he cleans off the dried blood from around Patrick’s nose. He rings the rag out then uses a different side to dab at Patrick’s lip, who winces at the slight pain. Pete bites his lip in apology and tries again, gentler this time.

After Patrick’s all cleaned up, Pete takes out his phone from his pocket and asks the question that’s been bugging him the most.

‘ _Who did this to you?_ ’

Patrick shrugs. “I don’t know his name. But he was about your height, maybe a little taller, tattoo on his wrist. That’s all I could see but I might be able to recognize him if I see him again.”

Pete nods in understanding, satisfied that Patrick had an idea of what the bully looked like. Then he remembers that Patrick had been holding his side and goes to lift his shirt, Patrick hesitantly allows it. There’s a big bruise shaped as a fist over his ribs, Pete can even see the individual fingers. The sight makes his blood boil. He’s mad that the bully hurt Patrick but he’s also mad at himself for not being able to protect his friend.

‘ _I’m sorry_.’

“Why?” Patrick asks confusedly.

‘ _I wasn’t there to help._ ’

“It’s not your fault Pete, I’ll be okay, really.”

Pete nods at the reassurance but he still feels like he’s the one to blame for this. ‘ _We should probably put some ice on your eye._ ’

“Yeah, okay.” Patrick goes to get off the counter but Pete doesn’t allow it, turning around and backing up between Patrick’s legs.

“Pete, I can walk.” He chuckles.

Pete stays put and looks over his shoulder at the other boy, raising his eyebrows as if to say, ‘you better get your ass up here’. Patrick breathes out a quick laugh and wraps his arms around Pete’s shoulders then Pete holds him up under his thighs and carries him to the kitchen. He sets him down on the counter again then goes to get ice and a plastic bag, tying it closed and handing it to Patrick who gingerly places it over his eye.

‘ _I’ve got your back, dude_.’ Pete types, putting his fist up for a fist bump. Patrick smiles and uses his free hand to bump against Pete’s knuckles.

They both make exploding noises as they separate their hands, smiling at each other.

 

 

 

 


	4. Photo-proof kisses

A week later, Pete is nowhere to be found. He doesn't show up for school, which isn't a surprise to Patrick, but he also doesn't go to Patrick's house. He's been missing all day and Patrick is worried about his friend. What if something bad happened to him? What if he got in trouble?

Patrick goes searching for Pete, checking every park and convenient store near the school but comes up empty handed. He isn't going to give up just yet, there's one place he hasn't looked. Patrick walks through the familiar shortcuts and pathways toward the arcade where he and Pete went when they first met. When he arrives he enters the small building and scans the area. Nothing.

"Hey," Bob, the employee Patrick always greeted, spoke. "You looking for your friend, the kid with the dreads?"

Patrick nods and walks over to the front counter. "Have you seen him?"

"Try the photo booth." He says and Patrick thanks him before going to the booth. He pulls the curtain aside and finds his friend sitting curled up on the bench, sniffling.

"Pete?"

Pete looks up and quickly wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to give Patrick a reassuring smile but it falls flat.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Patrick asks, stepping into the small booth and closing the curtain, taking a seat.

The other boy shakes his head, not really wanting to discuss his problems right now. Patrick doesn't need to worry about Pete's issues. He instead leans over and rests his head on Patrick's shoulder, sniffling a couple more times before his friend wraps his arms around him comfortingly. He'll get Pete to discuss it eventually.

"We can talk later, okay," Patrick says. "Whenever you're ready."

Pete nods against Patrick's shoulder then lifts his head, genuinely smiling lightly at his friend who returns it. He doesn't know what he'd do without him. Patrick then shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out a dollar, reaching over to put the bill in the slot. They're in a photo booth so why not take a few photos?

The boys end up grinning widely at each other, not really paying attention to the camera as it counts down for each picture.

They're staring at each other, smiling dumbly and oblivious to everything around them.

 _Click_.

Patrick glances down as he reaches for Pete's hand, taking hold of it and saying quietly, "I'm really glad I met you, Pete." which makes Pete grin like a madman and his stomach flutter wildly.

 _Click_.

Pete leans his head against Patrick's, pressing their foreheads together. There's so many things that Pete wants to say in this moment but he doesn't want to ruin anything by speaking. He trusts Patrick already so maybe he'll say something to him someday. But not today, not right now.

 _Click_.

Pete reaches his free hand up and gently cups the back of Patrick's neck, looking directly into his bright eyes carefully. He doesn't want to do something that Patrick doesn't, he doesn't want to mess anything up. But all Patrick does is intertwine their fingers, gazing back at Pete like he's the most beautiful creature to ever exist. Then Pete goes for it, closing the small gap between them and pressing his lips to Patrick's. Hesitant yet eager. And the pale boy closes his eyes on impact as if he was prepared for this, but really he was just comfortable around Pete and all of this happening felt right to him.

The camera clicks for the final time just as the kiss begins to intensify.

 

***

 

The next day Patrick is standing in his room staring at the small photos in his hand, while Pete is downstairs looking for snacks. Whenever Patrick thinks about what happened yesterday his lips tingle as if Pete's are still pressed there. The pictures make it that much more real, but it doesn't _feel_  real. It feels like a fantasy, a dream that faded away the more he thought about it. But here it is in his hand, proof in the form of four black and white photos. He smiles at them, he'll remember this forever.

Then suddenly Pete runs in and hops on Patrick's back, wrapping his arms and legs around him to keep from falling. He giggles when Patrick nearly falls forward from the uneven weight but he manages to keep standing, holding the underside of Pete's left leg with his free hand. Pete catches a glimpse of the photos then snatches them out of the other boy's hand, getting a closer look. Patrick doesn't even bother to complain about it, moving his other hand to Pete's other leg to keep him steady.

Pete gazes at the pictures, his eyes wide with awe. He forgot Patrick had put money in the machine yesterday, he was too caught up in the pale boy's mesmerizing eyes to really care about anything else. But he likes them, now they'll have something to remember their first kiss by. Pete flips the strip over to the plain white part and notices that something is scribbled on it; yesterday's date. Patrick must've wrote it there. Pete smiles, the photos must mean as much to Patrick as they do to Pete. He didn't even realize the shorter boy had began walking out of the room, carrying Pete along with him.

"Y'know," Patrick says as he walks down the hall. "for a short and scrawny guy, you're kind of heavy."

Pete sighs, still distracted by the pictures. "Bite me." He says in a very quiet voice, raspy from not using it in so long. Patrick wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't for Pete's mouth being so close to his ear. Then Pete relaxes his arm and rests his head on Patrick's shoulder, enjoying the free ride.

At first Patrick didn't even notice, he was about to go down the steps but stopped abruptly at the top of the staircase. The dark haired boy looks up confused.

"What did you just say?" Patrick asks.

"Nothing." Pete says in his raw voice, he hadn't realized he said anything either until he spoke the for second time in less than a minute. Just as he realizes it, Patrick drops him on the hardwood floor. "Ow, jeez, 'Trick. You didn't have to-" He cuts himself off, hearing his own voice for the first time who knows how long.

"Holy shit, you're talking!" Patrick exclaims, barely caring that he dropped his friend. "You fucking spoke!"

"Oh my god!"

Patrick grabs Pete's hands and yanks him up from the floor, immediately pulling him into a tight embrace. "Holy shit." He says again.

Pete holds him just as tight, also shocked that he said something, he didn't even really mean to say anything. Completely unplanned and out of the blue. He must trust Patrick more than he realized.

He still has the photo strip in his hands, careful not to bend them, he doesn't want to ruin any of these perfect moments.


End file.
